625. 31/8/16 (#617)

Pink Shadows

Gently closing, almost-sleeping,Form outside: hurtlingInside: breathing slowA landscape scurries pastThe distance lazy, foreground hazy,Barely a whisper of light on the horizon - Casting pink shadows on low clouds.Those around are tired (like me)But they have company to keep their eyes openI myself am alone, though I sit by a strangerI don't know their reasonsI know my own, I think,I want a future, and for me, that future is far awayIt is beyond the hills I can seeBut not so far to be unreachableSo I sit and let myself be carriedAway.